Tag: Dorset

February book reviews

I’ve not done very well with books this month. This is a shame because the weather outside is frightful and there’s nothing better than curling up with a good book when the rain is lashing against the windows.

There were two novels I abandoned after a couple of chapters and then a three-star which was all right, but not that enjoyable.

However, there is one stand-out book for me and I’m still reading it. It’s A Private Man by Stephanie Sy-Quia, due to be published in April. I didn’t expect it to be my thing at all, but it’s captivating. I’ll reveal more in next month’s reviews.

Being a reviewer for NetGalley is a real privilege. Especially when I go into a book shop and see all these titles I’ve already read, such as The Wardrobe Department *** by Elaine Garvey, Three Days in June **** by Anne Tyler, The Boy From The Sea **** by Garrett Carr and The Book of Doors **** by Gareth Brown.

One of my next reads will be the new novel by Elizabeth Strout, the author of Olive Kitteridge. But I have a few more to get through first, including my first purchase in a long time, Rogue Male by Geoffrey Household, published in 1939 and set around these parts, yet I’ve never read it.

In 1976, it was made into a television film starring Peter O’Toole.

And there has been talk that British actor Benedict Cumberbatch has his eye on the lead role in another film adaptation, although it’s all been a bit quiet of late.

Anyway, here’s my one and only book review for February.

Where The Truth Lies by Katherine Greene ***

Publication date: 24 March 2026

A murder rocks a small community in southern USA and threatents to blow apart the impending marraige of Rhett and Lucinda and their future happiness together. We think we know who did it and what and why it happened, but do we?

There are twists and turns galore in this thriller/whodunnit/domestic drama and I did not see the end coming. The story is told from various viewpoints, including the voice of the murdered woman, a device I always find difficult to take on board because how can she tell a story in the first person, past tense, when she’s dead?

I also didn’t much like any of the characters through which the tale unfolded.

Anyway, that aside, this was a tense and generally fast-paced novel which would be an ideal basis for a Netflix adaptation in the Harlan Coben mould.

Nice weather for ducks

Oh, what weather we’re having here in Lush Places.

Rain, rain and more rain. And when it’s not raining, it’s grey skies.

Dull, dull, dull.

It can be foggy here at the best of times. When other places nearby are bathed in sunshine we sit under the misty radar.

There’s a kind of microclimate at work, but not in a good way.

No-one tells you that before you move here, you find out only after it’s too late.

Currently, the village is in a grey state of doom, as are many places in the country ever since the new year began.

There are parts of South Wales and South West England where it’s rained every day since the door opened to let in 2026.

This weather saps the soul and, coupled with the worldwide fall of humanity on the depravity scale, it’s enough to make you want to curl up and come out in May, along with the bluebells and tulips.

My headphones are drowning out my sorrows and tinnitus, with wall-to-wall Stevie Wonder, an old friend’s Sunshine Pop playlist on Spotify and out-of-this-world ethereal music by We Are All Astronauts.

Still, if it wasn’t for the weather, we wouldn’t have anything to talk about.

There were blue skies on Wednesday and the snowdrops in my sister’s garden were chattering away like nobody’s business. Small joys to cheer up a dreary time.

On that note, have a great weekend.

Love, Maddie x

Spring is in the air

After a grey, grim old day yesterday, we have blue skies and signs of spring here in West Dorset.

There’s mud everywhere and it’s squelchy underfoot but the many puddles are reflecting the changing of the seasons.

We’re not there yet but it won’t be long.

On my morning walk, I glanced up when I heard the corvid call of rooks building nests in the tall trees in the copse.

And then a deer scuttled through the undergrowth.

‘The longer days are coming,’ said my farmer friend as he came down the hill from the community shop with his newspaper under his arm.

“But I fancy the daffodils are a bit early.”

I met a man in the lane who I thanked for his expertise in the community pub the other night when our very own Celebrity Farmer and his sidekick regaled the gathered throng with tales from their escapades on the Channel 4 show, Hunted.

(They should have done Bake Off.)

The man in the lane had provided his sound and vision expertise for the talk, which was just as well because the place was packed and none of us would have been able to hear it otherwise.

He told me he’s going to be at the village hall next weekend to help when I put on an archive film show as part of a project recording the memories of older people born and bred here in Lush Places.

It’s people like him who quietly get on with helping others who are the unsung heroes among us.

The international stage is a frightening place and there are personal situations all around where people are suffering.

But to be dragged down by all of that means the extinguishing of hope. We have to celebrate the small big things that make a difference.

I thought about all the volunteers in our pub who are keeping it going while we interview for a new manager. I thought about the volunteers in the shop who man the till.

The people who run the village hall, the people who keep our lovely church up and running, the people who lock and unlock the gate everyday on the multi-use games pitch, the people who listen to children reading at school and those who give up their time to look after our communal open spaces.

So many people, in small and big ways, doing their bit and keeping the community from coming unstuck.

To steal a well-known slogan, every little helps. And it really does.

Tis the season to be jolly…

While out dogwalking in Lush Places this morning, I encountered a train of primary school children walking in crocodile formation to the church.

Some had silver tinsel halos and others wore bunny ears.

It’s the time for school Nativity plays across the land.

Shortly after they were shepherded into the church, the heavens opened and rain lashed down in full Storm Bram mode, with gusts of wind careering through like the breath of Satan.

I do hope they got back to their classrooms safe and dry.

The weather is to be expected this time of year. But it’s a bit of a rude awakening for us, to be honest, after spending almost three weeks in South East Asia on a tour of Vietnam, Cambodia and Thailand.

It’s a trip we promised ourselves for ‘significant’ birthdays, but the pandemic lockdowns got in the way.

It’s been a terrific experience, with beautiful food and landscapes and such poignant tales of suffering which are indescribably sad.

The highlight for me was the gentle kindness of the Vietnamese and Cambodian people. Thank you for your warm hospitality.

I’ve been posting reels on my margerymaddie Instagram account, but below are a few pictures from our trip to give you a flavour.

Now it’s back to normality – we have to put the Christmas tree up again outside the house because it’s blown down in the storm.

And while we’re at it, we’ll change the lights to warm white rather than flashing, coloured lights, because we’ve spoilt the look of the village square and there have been complaints.

Which is fair enough. But just wait until we get our blow-up Santa…

Love, Maddie xxx

It’s a book!

Thrilled to announce the safe arrival of a book.

It’s Born & Bred: Stories of Then and Now in Broadwindsor, Dorset.

Featuring lots of old photos and interviews with locals, the 120-page book was produced by me for Windrose Rural Media Trust, for which I act as voluntary co-ordinator.

It’s available from the community pub and community shop, and also directly from me. I have to send a copy to the British Library, now that the international standard book number (ISBN) has been registered, so, in theory, people should be able to order it from book shops.

It’s been a long gestation and a difficult birth – my designer was beset with software problems and then a car crashed into a tree, causing him and thousands of others in the area to lose their internet for several days.

But it’s here, and the feedback has been lovely. It’s been a privilege to hear local people’s stories of their childhood and how the village used to be.

I even had a double page spread in the local paper.

All sale proceeds go to the pub, the shop and to Windrose, a registered charity.

The project is supported by grants from Dorset Council’s Community and Culture Fund, the South West Procurement Alliance/LHC Community Benefit Fund, Magna Housing Association’s Community Improvement Fund, and the British Association for Local History’s Small Grants Programme.